


Disaster Recovery Plan

by GenerallyHuxurious (GallifreyanOmnishambles)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Exhaustion, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, Medication, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Relationship, Sleep Deprivation, Surgery, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanOmnishambles/pseuds/GenerallyHuxurious
Summary: In the aftermath of the debacle on Crait the First Order is trying to run an evacuation and recovery operation from the stabilised remains of the Supremacy. But the Mega Star Destroyer is in worse condition than anyone realised, a fact Hux discovers only just in time to save his own life. Seriously injured he finds himself in unexpectedly close quarters with the new Supreme Leader...





	Disaster Recovery Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoneandonlyzoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneandonlyzoom/gifts).



The final encounter with the Resistance flagship had been a disaster on a scale Hux struggled to comprehend. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that clouded his mind- he had barely slept since Starkiller fell- but he found the only way to approach this horror was to look at it piece by piece. 

The Supremacy was crippled. The port side had retained just enough of the central structure to remain functional if immovable. It wasn’t ideal but recovery efforts could be funneled through the port side resources with relative safety for now.

The torn away starboard side though- that was not so lucky. 

In most cases the blast doors had functioned as they should, keeping the crew and vitally the atmosphere within the furthest portions of that half, but whole decks were without power and living on borrowed time. Other decks were well alight where oxygen was abundant but fire suppression was not. He had ordered an immediate evacuation and rescue mission before Ren had dragged them down to the surface of Crait but…

There was always a but. Three Star Destroyers obliterated in the wake of the Supremacy’s destruction and half a dozen more crippled by the shrapnel. There was a sea of debris out there to hinder any kind of rescue effort and a good portion of that mess was the remains of the crew itself. The Supremacy had split through more than one barracks. The casualties were in the tens of thousands.

Hux stepped aside as another transport disgorged a hollow eyed snake of rescuers and survivors. Those who still could saluted, but that was far fewer than he would like. His gaze skittered away from the pilots, refusing to see the effects of navigating through the drifting bodies of former comrades.

Six months ago he’d thought his crew could face anything. Hell, two weeks ago he’d believed that. Now he wasn’t sure what he believed in any more. The Supreme Lea… no,  _ Snoke _ was dead. Starkiller was gone, the flagship was a barely functioning derelict, the fleet had been decimated. Yes, the Resistance were reduced to barely a handful of survivors, but this didn’t feel like victory.

It was, absurdly, Hux’ own refusal to meet the pain of death in his crews’ eyes that saved his own life. 

The inspection had been an impromptu meandering affair, more of an excuse to walk and clear his head than to actually study the state of the hangar. This particular hangar had been the one furthest from the disaster and least likely to be damaged. Or so he’d thought. 

As his eyes shifted away from the line of survivors Hux noticed something fall from above. The object wasn’t much, little more than a duct-cover but, ever fearful of infiltration now, he traced the path of its fall back to the source.

Above him an entire row of AT-M6 walkers was swaying, their long relaxed legs shifting from side to side like so many sleeping loth-kittens being carried by their mothers. 

Ever since the Empire it had been tradition to suspend the bulkier combat walkers from the ceilings of the smaller hangars. Such arrangements freed up floor space and allowed the machines to be lowered into their transports without wasting fuel. 

However- Hux thought as time slowed and the huge beam supporting the full weight of a dozen walkers began to buckle- the storage solution did have its drawbacks. 

Hux turned on his heel intending to run and grabbed the elbow of the nearest officer for just an instant before a lifetime of self preservation made him abandon his hold almost as quickly as it had been made. 

Pain lanced through that shoulder like white hot flame before a rush of wind and debris swept him from his feet. 

Noise followed, louder than his brain could possibly process, and then... nothing.

* * *

“Supreme Leader?”

Kylo didn’t bother to look up from the mess of reports and maps scattered across the table. They already seemed to be mocking him with their incomprehensible written demands, and here was another subordinate ready to pile more work on his shoulders. Perhaps if he ignored him the man would go away.

Snoke had never dealt with so much bureaucracy. That’s what Hux was for- Hux and his fellow commanding officers, half of whom were either dead or missing… which was the real source of Kylo’s problem. Snoke had waited until Sloane had built the First Order from the ashes of the Empire and he’d died of his own arrogance before he’d ever truly faced a real challenge. Snoke had never dealt with a disaster on this scale before so Kylo had no example to follow. 

There’d been no rescue effort after Starkiller. Planetary destruction rarely had survivors.

In the last few days Kylo had been tempted to declare the same of this disaster. But Hux had reported that morale was already unbearably low, and the Order did need every being it could get…

Kylo flicked irritably at a datapad which showed nothing but a slowly increasing number entitled ‘Confirmed Losses’.

“Supreme Leader, there’s been an accident in hanger 42…”

Kylo turned slowly to glare at the man. “An accident? Three hundred thousand dead and you bother me with  _ an accident _ ?! Talk to Hux.”

The man, a vaguely familiar Lieutenant with a ring of purple bruises around his neck, stepped back but made no move the leave. “Sir, that’s the problem, General Hux…”

“Whatever order he’s given you- follow it. This ship is his command right now, it is not my concern.”

“Sir…”

He didn’t mean to do it. The irritation of the last few days boiled over yet again and the Lieutenant was suddenly on his knees scrabbling at his neck. 

“I will not tolerate this disrespect.” Kylo spat as he fought the urge to tighten the grip of the Force until the man’s throat was so much paste. “Talk to Hux, then report to reconditioning.”

“But he’s dead!”

The deck seemed to lurch under his feet and Kylo loosened his hold as he fought for balance.

“Dead?”

* * *

Much to his surprise he wasn’t dead. But right at this moment Hux wished he was, or if not dead at least blessedly unconscious.

“Is there anyone you would like us to keep informed about your condition, Sir?” The doctor spoke gently as if Hux would be alarmed by a loud human voice while the droids working on his wounds hummed and rattled at a volume that set his teeth on edge. He was not delicate, whatever this fool thought of him.

“The Supreme Leader needs to be advised.” Hux said through gritted teeth. A nerve had just been reconnected. It was a horrible sensation that sent a nauseating wave of agony through fingers that had been numb a moment ago. He had no wish to be awake for this but as commanding officer he had no choice in the matter. 

“Naturally word was sent to the Supreme Leader as soon as we realised you were involved, Sir, but I meant…” The doctor paused, licking first her teeth and then her lips in a repulsive show of discomfort. “... a loved one or a next of kin? For some reason that portion of your medical profile has been left blank. I know your father passed away some years ago but do you have a spouse or…”

If this line of questioning didn’t end soon then Hux was going to shatter every tooth in his mouth from sheer irritation. “The Supreme Leader will be sufficient on this occasion.”

“Sir, the droids can reattach your arm- the limb wasn’t entirely severed- but with so much of our bacta supply already diverted your recovery is going to take weeks. You’ll need additional support for quite some time once you’re released from medical.”

Hux turned his face away from her. Unfortunately that meant staring directly at the ruins of his left shoulder and the pack of droids piecing it together again like some griselly version of a child’s puzzle. Somewhere to his right a machine gave a warning chirrup.

“I have enough junior officers left that one can be spared as an assistant,” he said at last. 

He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. No, he didn’t have anyone who cared if he lived or died, when had he ever had time for that? He certainly wasn’t going to admit- to  _ anyone _ , ever- that Ren’s name was the one he’d want in that space if ever he had the choice. Some fantasies were more impossible than others. 

In addition to the burning sensation in his cheeks he could swear his heart was beginning to race. It was so fast that he could feel it like a drum beat in his ears.

The doctor’s voice came from far away, drifting off into incomprehensible static. “Sir, it really isn’t advisable to look…” 

Between the fast moving arms of the droids he thought he could see the door to the medical bay sliding open as a tall dark figure approached. As if merely thinking about Ren had summoned the Supreme Leader’s presence.

Hux swallowed hard when his treacherous brain reminded him that the Force  _ could _ be used for telepathy. What if Ren had heard that thought? It was illogical but logic seemed to be leaving him now as his heart thundered in his ears and something cold spread from his uninjured wrist towards his face. 

One last burst of panic, then darkness washed over him again.

* * *

Hux wasn’t dead.

Kylo stood just inside the doorway, out of the way of the bustling medical droids, and stared at Hux as if refusing to blink would be enough to convince him the General was really alive. 

He’d have to kill that damn Lieutenant for giving him such faulty intelligence. 

The door hadn’t even closed behind him when a flurry of alarms sounded. They were accompanied by a rapidly rising beep of a heart monitor that dropped off when the General appeared to lose consciousness again. The medics didn’t seem all that concerned by this change- Hux had been looking at the exposed muscle and sinew of his own arm at the time, a sight that would probably lead the uninitiated to slip into shock. 

“Oh! Supreme Leader!” The doctor’s look of calm melted away when she looked up and met his eye. Apparently she hadn’t noticed his arrival. “I didn’t expect you to come in person! I thought we’d sent enough…”

“I was told he was dead.”

“What? No, the droid we sent should have…”

“I saw no droid. A Lieutenant came to my quarters. What happened?” Kylo tried to keep his voice steady if not calm. 

He was far from calm. Rage was twisting through his stomach like a nest of vipers but there was nothing to be gained from lashing out at this woman at this exact moment. The commander of his army was still under her care. He could punish her later.

“I’m not an engineer, Sir, but I understand that the impact of the Resistance ship caused more widely spread damage than was originally believed. A shock wave of sorts? The roof of hangar 42 partially collapsed whilst the General and his retinue were performing an inspection. He was the only surviving officer within the radius of the impact and as you can see-” She gestured towards the droids painstakingly rebuilding the General’s shoulder joint. “His arm was almost severed. I can understand why someone with no medical training would assume he was dead, or soon to be dead.”

“Hmmm.” Perhaps it had been wishful thinking on somebody’s part. Kylo surveyed the damage to the limb, half hidden now by the badly bruised flesh that had already been stitched back together. The General’s uniform had been cut away, leaving him small and pale on the operating table, the red of his hair stiff with dried blood. “Prognosis?”

“A slow but complete recovery,” she said, instantly, eager to be the one giving the Supreme Leader some good news. “Until the rest of the fleet reaches us we won’t have sufficient bacta supplies to speed…”

Kylo cut her off with a shrug. It didn’t matter. Hux could do his job well enough with one hand, no need to waste supplies on him.

He turned to leave, then stopped. 

Now that the alarms and sirens had stopped the room was surprisingly peaceful. Nothing but the steady whirr of droids to disturb the silence. 

“This is a private suite, yes?” He asked. 

“Oh yes, we wouldn’t put someone like General Hux into a communal ward. The risk of rumour and…” she trailed off, clearly stopping herself from saying more. Yes, there probably would be at least some security risk- as loyal as Hux believed his forces to be Kylo knew how Hux had risen through the ranks. Assassination could come from the most unexpected of quarters.

The taunting projection of his uncle flitted briefly across Kylo’s vision. He clenched his fists and dismissed the image.

“I will stay here.” It was a snap decision, one he couldn’t possibly justify to a subordinate, but the cool calm of the room and the freedom from the piles of work he’d left behind in his own quarters…

She didn’t comment, thought she smiled a little strangely for a second or two. “Of course. Do you need anything, Sir?”

Kylo reached out a hand to the chair sitting behind the desk at the opposite end of the room. She jumped a little as it scraped across the floor. Most people did the first time they saw his powers. 

The anger in his heart calmed a little at the reminder that he was truly better than mere mortals. 

“Just a spare datapad, if you have one,” he said as he sank into the chair that slid neatly up to the back of his knees. 

* * *

“Cold.” It wasn’t a whine or a whimper, just a softly but flatly made statement of fact.

Kylo glanced up at the bed Hux had been transferred to once the droids had finished with him. Once again he was struck by the impression of slightness- lost amongst the sheets the usually immaculate General was just a narrow shouldered trembling figure. 

Yellow bruises still covered his neck and ribs from their disagreements on Crait and in the throne room, but the marks Kylo had left on him were painted over now with the deep purple of major trauma. It was a strange contrast with his natural colouring. The unexpectedly long hair now glowing in a gold halo around his head on the pillow only added to his apparent delicacy.

Why was he thinking like this? Hux was almost his height. Yes, he lacked Kylo’s breadth but that was hardly a surprise, now was it? Kylo had seen him in that ridiculous robe more than once.

Still… he was so… fragile.

A particularly violent shudder from the figure in the bed finally reminded Kylo why he’d looked up in the first place. Hux was all over gooseflesh to the point that even his teeth were chattering, though he didn’t seem to be awake.

With a wave of his hand Kylo summoned the sheets from the foot of the bed and let the Force drag them up over the man’s shaking form. 

Hux gave a sigh of satisfaction that turned almost into a moan as the fabric brushed over his chest. Kylo paused, unsure whether he’d caused pain by touching on an injury he hadn’t noticed, but Hux made no other sign of discomfort. He just sighed again and seemed to drift into a deeper sleep. 

Content that the room was quiet once more Kylo returned to the datapad in his hand. 

Work of this kind had always caused him immense stress, but there was something about the soft sound of the other man’s breathing that was helping his mind to focus. It was strange that a sleeping Hux could have that effect when awake the man was a thorn in the side of all Kylo’s equilibrium. Always striving for power, for some point of control, for anything… 

Kylo flexed his fist, watching his fingers shift. The muscles moved the material world and his spirit moved the Force. He’d already been so angry when the girl rejected his plan and then Hux had dared to challenge him as if he wasn’t the obvious successor to the Supreme Leader.

His eyes drifted to the datapad. The words were beginning to blur into nonsense. Hadn’t they always been nonsense? All these reports should not be his concern. If Hux were healthy then they wouldn’t be his concern…

Some small gentle voice that sounded far too much like his own fucking mother quietly suggested to his brain that perhaps he _ wasn’t  _ the best person for this role. Not alone at least.

With a growl of frustration Kylo flung his hand out, a ripple of Force energy following after to throw a dozen small objects from their resting places around the room. The crash of metal and glass released a little of his tension for a moment, until a grunt just audible under the tinkling of glass reminded him of the room’s other occupant. 

Hux was watching him through sunken eyes that seemed barely able to keep their lids from closing. Every breath or two his gaze would lose focus and vanish under flicking golden lashes. 

“Why are you destroying my quarters?” The words were halting and slurred, sleep or medication softening the usually clipped tones of the General’s voice.

“You’re in medical.”

“Ah.” Hux lost all focus and finally let his eyes close. “A deathbed vigil then, how kind of you. Or are you just here to make sure I’m really dead?”

“You’re not going to die.” 

“Hah. Can I have that in writing?” 

Kylo was about to reply with some snappish threat or other but then the man in the bed smiled. His eyes were still closed, brow and jaw relaxed for possibly the first time Kylo had ever seen in five years of difficult interactions. It was… a transformation. 

A face normally filled with malice had no place looking that soft. Kylo would have almost called it ‘bright’ if the man’s usual pallor hadn’t finally reached the point of being outright grey. He might have called it beautiful if Kylo had been a man of much less sense.

Slowly the expression melted away into slack jawed repose. Hux was asleep again.

Kylo shivered a little, oddly disturbed by the exchange, but turned back to his datapad all the same. There was work to be done.

* * *

Hux woke slowly to the sound of someone muttering under their breath.

Why was there anyone in his room? It must be the middle of the night. 

Most assassins wouldn’t be so lax that they’d actually speak while trying to sneak up on their target, but Hux had served with enough idiots to know that anything was possible. So he would just lay still, kept his eyes closed, and reach carefully for one of the blasters he kept between the mattress and the bed frame. 

He managed to move his left arm a little less than an inch before he was gasping with pain. 

The atonal singing of nerves in distress lit up his sleep addled brain like no amount of caf or tarine tea could ever have hoped to do. The accident, the surgery, the unexpected appearance of the Supreme Leader… it all poured into consciousness as one cold lump. Oh hell, had he really woken in the night to find Ren by his bed only to make jokes about the man murdering him?!

If only he could go back to sleep, preferably forever. No hope of that though, not between the pain, and the muttering.

Wait? Who was muttering?

Ren was still sitting in the chair a few feet away. He was holding a datapad loosely in both hands while his face rested against an upraised knee. It wasn’t an elegant way of sitting, not by a long shot, but it was much more flexible than Hux would have given him credit for…that was a line of thought that he really shouldn’t indulge.

“...how the frell is any one being supposed to hold all this information in their head at once?” Ren said quietly to his datapad like the device was capable of answering him. “None of the Captains are willing to volunteer their resources, but someone must or we’re going to be out of supplies in days…” 

Hux couldn’t help it. He asked, “You’re really not expecting any of the Star Destroyers’ commanding officers to raise a hand and say ‘please, Sir, put my ship and all sixty thousand of her crew at a disadvantage’ are you?”

The other man didn’t jump when Hux spoke but he looked up quickly enough that he probably hadn’t realised Hux was awake until now. 

“I expect them to give me the data on how much of their reserves they can spare when asked for it,” Ren replied in a disappointed tone.

“They’re tell you they have no ‘spare’ reserves. If anyone had asked me that when I was in command of a single ship I’ve have answered the same. You don’t volunteer for more work, ever. We all learned that in basic training. You  _ take _ work that will enhance your position and you  _ follow _ orders, but you never volunteer.”

“Why?”

“Volunteers get used, Supreme Leader, they get the worst jobs and the only reward they get is the opportunity to do it all over again next week. If it got out to the crew- and it would get out- that food had been volunteered, morale would fall and the commander in question would find themselves in an uncomfortable position vis-a-vis still being alive.”

The silence that followed gave Hux time to think that perhaps he had spoken out of turn. Kylo Ren wasn’t one of them, he didn’t know the First Order’s ways.

Unwilling to dig himself into a deeper hole Hux watched the datapad turning in the Supreme Leader’s hands. He rarely saw those hands without the cover of their usual gloves, and now he couldn’t stop himself from focusing on the sheer size and power of them. How unfair that everything about this man was built on a larger scale than the norm. 

“What do I do then?”

“What?” At most he’d been expecting the datapad to been thrown at his head, not this quietly posed question. Ren? Asking him for advice? Like they were civilised men each with a valuable skill set of their own, not just the chosen one and a ‘rabid cur’?

“If they won’t volunteer the information, how do I get what we need?”

Wonders never cease.

“Requisition the supplies,” Hux replied in a tone too much like he was speaking to a small child before he corrected himself with a cough. “I meant, Supreme Leader, that we have the basic data of their crew numbers and supply levels. You don’t let them choose, you just take what we know they can do without.”

Another long uncomfortable silence as the datapad continued to turn slowly, now suspended in the air between Ren’s fingertips. 

“You expect me to know the standard ration levels for three different class of Star Destroyer?” Ren asked at last.

Pain was beginning to seep in at the edges of his awareness. His shoulder was becoming a mass of heat centred around the point he’d strained before, reaching for a blaster that wasn’t there. He might as well take the opportunity to be distracted from it.

“No, Supreme Leader, but it is information that is accessible to you,” Hux held out his good hand toward the sullen looking man half curled into his chair. “I know every specification in the fleet. I  _ have _ been managing most of the budget for the last few years after all.”

For perhaps the first time ever in his presence Ren smiled. “I thought you never volunteered?”

Hux snorted and wriggled his fingers to repeat his silent request for the datapad. 

“Technically, it was already my job. Besides, I need something to distract me from this.” He said with a gesture towards his ruined shoulder. 

The datapad flew into his hand with far less violence than he had expected only a few minutes before, not thrown but levitated by the strange power of the Force. If only Hux’ own rearrangement to an upright position could be anything like as elegant. 

It was hard to sit up with only the use of one arm. Pain was thrilling down his side from the cracked ribs that had only just begun to heal before the accident jarred them again and now he found that he could barely wriggle in place. The whole thing was extremely undignified. 

He could feel himself blushing under the gaze of his former rival- now technically his superior officer- as the thin sheets slid down into his lap. Humiliating.

Suddenly Ren had a hand raised in his direction. 

Before Hux do more than swallow the squeak of fear at the gesture he found himself lifted from the surface of the bed and moved back into a more comfortable position. 

“I… uh, thank you,” he said a little sheepishly as he tried to rearrange the sheet and thus recover a shred of dignity. 

Ren shrugged. “Do what needs to be done.”

Hux nodded, mostly to himself, his fingers already flicking through the documents on the screen. “This would go faster with a few more datapads. I prefer a multi screen setup whenever possible. And some tea.”

The last comment received no response but as he stood and stretched Ren asked, “You don’t find it draining? All that information at once?”

“Oh no, that’s when I really feel alive.”

* * *

In a moment of weakness Kylo had half admitted to Hux that he found the written tasks overwhelming. He’d been bracing himself for one of the General’s barely veiled insults but instead Hux had smiled at him again. A proper bright smile.

Part of Kylo’s stomach had reacted to this sight by turning into a thousand butterflies and he’d had no choice but to immediately excuse himself. It was ridiculous that after all these years of working together he was only now noticing just how beautiful Hux was underneath his bad temper. 

Why hadn’t he noticed it before?! Hell the man had welcomed him into his quarters in little more than a robe and Kylo had been oblivious to… He stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, forcing a patrol of stormtroopers to split around him like he was a rock in a stream.

Just now Hux had blushed when his chest had been uncovered, but he’d never seemed embarrassed when Kylo had arrived at his quarters to find him in little more than that decadent robe… Had Hux been trying to seduce him all this time? 

Kylo scrubbed both hands over his face and then pushed them back, tugging deliberately at his hair more than the tangles could ever warrant. Why was everything so hard?

He walked on, heading for his quarters with the intention of bringing more datapads back to medical but part of his mind was already planning something else. 

That part of his mind that couldn’t stop replaying Hux saying ‘that’s when I really feel alive’ and wishing he could hear it again.

* * *

When he’d said ‘a few more datapads’ he’d been envisioning two or three, not the cascade of plasteel that Ren tossed into his lap. Almost instantly the weight of what looked like a dozen datapads tugged the sheet down from his shoulders again.

Hux shivered and forgot himself, reaching for the edge of the sheet with his left hand. 

He did his best to bite back the “Fuck!” that slipped automatically from his mouth when nauseating pain radiated down his arm, but the lingering medication seemed to have loosened his tongue a little too much. Pathetic, showing so much weakness...

“Here.”

A bundle of black fabric was presented only an inch from his face. It was hard to focus at such a distance, especially when his brain insisted on pointing out that Ren still wasn’t wearing his gloves. 

“What?”

The fabric slithered slowly through Ren’s fingers, the bulk apparently too much to be contained even by his grip, and revealed what had been Hux’ own neatly and precisely pleated robe. 

Hux let his eyes follow the creased- and probably ruined- garment as it flopped sadly into his lap to join the absurd collection of datapads. 

At a loss to an appropriate reply Hux raised an enquiring eyebrow in Ren’s direction and hoped the irritated twitching of his left eyelid wasn’t too noticeable. 

“You looked cold.”

Ren could have fetched him another blanket- there were half a dozen clearly visible in a locker not ten feet away. He could have asked a medic to provide Hux with some kind of gown…

Why then, had he felt the need to break into Hux’ quarters and mangle one of his most treasured possessions? And to think of all the times Hux had tried to impress the man…

The cold realisation that Ren, as Supreme Leader, had full access to all the quarters in every ship slid down Hux’ spine like ice water. He shivered again. For a moment he was too worried about what Ren might have seen to be concerned about the state of his clothing.

Hux jumped when the weight in his lap shifted enough to draw his attention back to reality. 

Ren had picked up the robe and was shaking it out, seemingly in an effort to find the sleeves. What in the hell was he doing?

“You’re not helping yourself,” Ren said admonishingly, holding the right side of the robe open close to Hux’ good side.

Being dressed by a man who had tried to kill him only days before was… well honestly it wasn’t an entirely unknown sensation for Hux- the Academy and the years after had been  _ interesting _ to say the least… but he’d never been this close to anyone who could kill him so easily, or that he wanted more completely.

He shivered again at the drag of Ren’s knuckles along his right shoulder. He hadn’t even registered obediently holding his arm out, but now he was suddenly overwhelmed by the mixed sensations of soft fabric and rough battle scarred skin. 

The wonderful rush of feeling didn’t last long enough for Hux to get lost. He’d barely scratched the surface for starry eyed fantasy when reality reasserted itself. 

His left arm couldn’t flex to be covered by the robe. He wasn’t entirely sure if the wound should even have any kind of covering other the black medical tape. Combined with the extra length of the garment, Hux soon found himself back in the realm of awkward shuffling around the bed. With Ren’s chest barely inches from his face which was a whole new type of embarrassing thrill.

Throughout the manouvre Ren said nothing, silently rearranging the fabric until Hux’ right side was comfortably warm and his left was only slightly aching from the weight of the robe draped around him like a cape. Then, with a nod as if he were pleased with a job well done, Ren picked up two of the datapads and returned to his chair. 

If he noticed that Hux had turned pink, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Uh… thank you?”

Ren didn’t even look up.

* * *

The bed beneath his face shifted slightly, a hiss of discomfort following close behind.

Why was his bed moving? He never shared his sleeping quarters, even during the most cramped missions with his Knights. It was a matter of dignity. Of respect. It was a matter of fear. 

Someone was in his room. 

Visions of his treacherous uncle filling his sleep addled mind, Ren reached out to summon his ‘saber and pushed himself upright. 

Instead of flying to him from the bedside table, the lightsaber tugged easily free of his belt hook and was in his hand in an instant, which was thankfully enough of a surprise to keep him from igniting it. 

He wasn’t in bed. Or even in his quarters.

“If you were always going to cut my head off it seems a little inefficient to have these droids bothering to reattach my arm,” Hux sneered. 

The General was staring at Kylo over the lightsaber’s hilt with an admirable attempt at contempt on a face that clearly wanted to show fear. Death was inches from his nose yet Hux hadn't moved. He was still sitting upright in his hospital bed. The robe was now even more crumpled where the droids had pushed it away to continue his treatment but he otherwise hadn’t shifted a muscle since Kylo had last looked at him.

How long ago had that been? 

Breathing heavily Kylo lowered the lightsaber and looked around the empty room. There were few visual markers to the passage of time in space, but the corridor lights were dimmed for the sleep cycle. They’d been brightly lit when Kylo had… what?

He returned his lightsaber to his belt, some guilty part of his brain noting the soft sigh of relief from the bed. 

What had he been doing?

Hux had been drafting the requisition orders for the last stages of the rescue effort, then sending them to Kylo for approval and signature. They’d worked in silence, like a well oiled machine, effective and efficient, then…

Then Hux had gone limp, the stress of the last week and the strain of his injury finally forcing him down into sleep. The sound of his breathing had generated that calming effect in Kylo’s brain again, letting him focus and work longer until…

He’d fallen asleep on the edge of Hux’ bed. Like a novice at the temple he’d fallen asleep with just his hands for pillows. 

When had he last slept in someone else’s company? Not since the temple fell. 

The droids had re-entered the room, and he hadn’t woken. 

Had the doctor returned with them? Someone must have spoken to Hux, whether it was a human or a droid, someone must have explained the next step in his treatment. And Kylo hadn’t woken up. 

Kylo could feel himself shaking. Not fear. Not exactly. Rage. At himself. For putting himself at such risk. Luke almost killed him in his sleep. Even Hux could have…

“No one came in here,” Hux said. “If that’s what you’re getting yourself worked up about. The medic pinged my datapad when she saw I was back online. There was nothing to discuss verbally that couldn’t be done by textlog. You were never in any danger, I didn’t see any reason to wake you. You looked… comfortable.”

“No danger?” Kylo asked, shaking his head at the ridiculous idea. He could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes while some unspoken emotion tried to eat his heart whole. “ _ You  _ could have killed me.”

Hux shrugged his right shoulder, an amused but nasty smile on his face as he looked at the space around him. 

“With what, exactly? I’m hardly mobile,” He laughed, nodding to the only thing at hand, a small trolley with only a few items sitting on it. “I suppose I could have stuffed a handful of cotton swabs into your mouth and hope you choked on them, but I doubt it would be effective. Same with the glass of water. Could I bash your head in with a datapad without waking you? Unlikely. Throttle you with the sheets…”

“Enough!”

The shout echoed around the room and died away until there was only the faint hum of glass vibrating. Or maybe that was Kylo’s skeleton shaking with rage. How dare Hux mock him like this?! Perhaps he should have ordered the medics not to bother repairing the General’s wounds. Then he wouldn’t have to face this kind of abuse. 

“I’m not going to kill you in your sleep, Ren,” Hux said quietly. 

“Don’t call me that.”

Hux looked sullen and thoroughly admonished as he turned his gaze away. “Of course, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo should have felt pleased by the muted tone, but instead he just felt sick. If he had Hux killed for his insubordination then he’d never have the chance to see that smile again or hear Hux genuinely enthused by something…

He shuddered at the unwanted thought and forced his mind to more practical matters. If he had Hux executed he’d have to do all the work himself. The full report had said another dozen officers had been killed in the accident that almost cost Hux his arm. At this rate Kylo was fast running out of support staff. 

That’s why he wasn’t going to have Hux executed. It didn’t have anything to do with the way the light glittered in his eyelashes while he stared down at the sheets.

“Kylo…”

Hux glanced up, his eyebrows creasing slightly. “What?”

Now that Kylo was really looking at him he could see that the General’s pupils were blown. No wonder he was speaking out of turn, the droids had probably given him more medication. 

“You can call me ‘Kylo’.” He said, and felt ridiculous.

“Okay.” Hux said after a pause. “Don’t call me ‘Armitage’ or I might revisit the whole ‘not killing you’ thing. And please sit down.” He gestured toward the seat that Kylo had knocked over when he woke. The hand was shaking. Pain? Or fear?

Kylo wanted to reach out and hold it until the trembling stopped. 

Instead he nodded. “Of course, we have work to do.”

* * *

Typing one handed one was difficult, but typing one handed while surgical droids neatened up the stitches in a catastrophic wound was more or less working on hard mode.

Just a few days ago Hux had thought that working through sleep deprivation and the loss of his greatest achievement was a challenge. Now he had a physical injury to contend with too, as well as an angry Force user who seemed incapable of leaving his side. 

Ren, no,  _ Kylo _ had fallen asleep on the edge of the bed sometime after Hux had passed out. How Hux felt about that was a mystery even to himself. Of course, he hadn’t expected it. 

If he’d put any energy into the matter of where the Supreme Leader would be sleeping he would of course have assumed that he’d go back to his quarters. He’d been surprised enough that Ren had wanted to stay and work. The man hadn’t helped him with paperwork in five years of co-command. 

But he had looked lovely when he slept. Not angry or brooding or sulky, just… normal. All soft full lips and a perfect profile. 

Hux shouldn’t have left him to sleep when the droids arrived. He’d ended up with a lightsaber in his face. Then his mouth had run away with him again and now they were sitting in awkward silence. 

He was tired. 

Everything hurt. 

He shifted his knees, trying to find a position where his boney arse would be halfway comfortable. There wasn’t one. He’d explored every possible position that could be achieved without putting weight on his arm, but there was no cure for a terrible thin mattress. 

What he wouldn’t give to be back in his quarters. 

The datapad slipped from his fingers again when he tried to type in the coordinates of a sensitive recovery mission. Instead of saving the data it cleared the entire form.

“For fucks sake!” He spat, dragging the datapad back up from his lap to his knees with far more force than than necessary. Ten minutes effort wasted.

Kylo was staring at him. He could almost feel it on his skin as a cold burning sensation.

Hux raised his eyes to meet Kylo’s gaze. 

Two days in medical had left his hair loose and stringy, the usually tamed strands hanging down around his face to obscure his vision. In a way it gave him a little protection from Ren’s intensity. 

Even as he thought that Kylo reached out one of those massive ungloved hands to brush back the curtain of hair. The very tips of his fingers brushed over his brow, coarse but gentle and totally unexpected. 

Not taking his eyes from Kylo’s, Hux turned his face to rest his cheek again Kylo’s palm. It was calloused and warm and everything Hux had ever imagined it to be. 

Kylo might be an insufferable egotistical prick at times, but he was beautiful, strong, and capable of so much if he just tried. Hux could work with that. 

Was Kylo shaking? Was the tremor from Kylo’s hand or was Hux suffering the effects of medication withdrawal?

Then Kylo licked his lips and Hux saw that the shaking was present even there.

Abruptly the door opened with a hiss. 

Kylo’s hand vanished, literally behind his back, as if he was a guilty cadet trying to hide contraband from a superior. It was almost enough to make Hux laugh if he hadn’t been mourning the loss of his warmth.

The doctor said nothing about the Supreme Leader’s sudden movements, though that strange supercilious smile danced across her face again. 

“General…” She glanced at her datapad, clearly trying to school her features into something more acceptable. Finally the smile was subdued. “Good news. The droids report that your injuries have improved enough for us to release you.”

When he sighed with relief and moved to throw off the sheet still covering his legs she raised a hand to stop him. 

“Wait. Normally we would prefer to keep you here but since you haven’t been sleeping and it’s clear that your, ah, the Supreme Leader needs your assistance we are releasing you  _ to your quarters _ . Not active duty. You need to continue to rest as much as possible.” She turned to Kylo and the raised hand became an admonishing finger. “He must rest. If he’s pushed too far he may losing some of the function in his arm. Is that clear?”

Hux expected Ren to explode. For anyone to speak to the Supreme Leader like that, like a naughty child and a nursemaid all in one, it was unheard of. Hell, Hux was one more condescending remark away from snapping at the woman himself, and he actually had control over his temper…

Kylo nodded, his expression grave. “Of course.”

* * *

Hux had stared at him as if he was insane. He almost felt insane.

Kylo knew how he should- normally would- have reacted to be spoken to like that by a subordinate, but he could still feel the warm fine texture of Armitage’s skin against the palm of his hand like the sensation had been burned into the nerves themselves. 

Under the rough texture of the surprisingly golden stubble Hux had felt just as delicate as he looked. Once as a child Kylo had been taken to a planet where the locals used paper so thin it was transparent in place of window glass. Hux reminded him of that world. It had been one of the most peaceful times Kylo had ever known…

With that sensation still fresh in his mind Kylo had listened to the doctor explaining the General’s care plan as if he was the man’s carer, not just his superior, and Hux had let him. He’d stared at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, but he hadn’t objected.

Hux had let Kylo help him down from the bed. He’d held Kylo’s hand like he’d never felt human skin before. He hadn’t let go while the doctor arranged his arm and strapped it to his chest to immobilise it. Instead Kylo had felt his grip tighten as his face went white from the pain.

For five years Kylo had lived by Snoke’s rule of non-interference with the General’s mind but for the first time he had reached into that spiky mess of ego and rage. He’d plucked out the pain like a coal from the fire and crushed the sensation until it was nothing but a dull ache. 

Gratitude had rushed into Kylo’s mind, gratitude and something else that had left him reeling. 

Now they were standing in Hux’ quarters but Kylo didn’t remember a second of the journey to get there. His mind had been focused elsewhere.

Hux stood facing him now wearing only his boots, undershorts, and the robe he’d worn so often in Kylo’s presence in this room. Instead of the self-assured man Kylo had disregarded in the past the figure in from of him looked fragile and absolutely perfect. Hux was swaying slightly. No wonder if he had been forced to walk here after so much blood loss and trauma. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Hux said quietly, his eyes fixed at some point just beyond Kylo’s head, the stance of all First Order officers when facing their superiors. 

For once Kylo wished that Hux would look at him like an equal.

“I want to.”

Judging by the intake of breath the admission surprised Hux, but it surprised Kylo far more. Until that very moment he hadn’t realised the truth of it, not in so many words. He  _ wanted _ to care for Hux while he recovered. He hadn’t wanted to care for anyone in nearly a decade; he barely even cared for himself.

Hux darted his eyes to Kylo’s face and away again, his cheeks slowly flushing pink. Without the medication that had eased the way last time the smile crept across his face in stages, the slow twitch of one corner and then the other, teeth worrying at his bottom lip as if to keep the expression at bay.

It was irresistible.

A single step was all it took to close the distance between them.

There was one more quiet gasp from Hux before Kylo pressed their lips together.

* * *

The kiss was unexpectedly, and curiously chaste; just Kylo’s cool lips pushed firmly against his own.

All of his higher brain functions signed off at the simple touch of slightly chapped skin against his own.

It was pathetic. Why was he so affected by something so simple?

His body didn’t seem to care about the question. His eyes had been drifting toward the floor when Kylo made his move and now they’d closed, giving into the sensation.

With his one good arm Hux reached out. He wasn’t quite certain why- to push Ren away or to draw him in- until his fingers touched the distinctive pleating of Kylo’s tunic.

Kylo was shaking, very definitely shaking this time. Hux could feel the tension in the muscle just beneath the fabric. Of course Hux had always been aware of the other man’s size, but there was a big difference between knowing intellectually and actually having all that power under his fingertips.

Why had he ever pretended to himself that he might not want this ridiculous man? Every irritation and disagreement over the last five years was erased in an instant. 

Mind made up, Hux let his hand slide up the thick trembling bicep and over a shoulder that had no business being so broad to settle at the nape of Kylo’s neck. 

The skin and hair there felt greasy, but Hux knew he’d feel just the same - a testament to far too long spent in medical without access to a refresher. Hux was just toying with the idea of suggesting they share a sonic shower - real water being in short supply on the wreck of the Supremacy - when his mind observed that Ren hadn’t moved. 

The kiss hadn’t deepened despite the unconscious probing of his tongue against Kylo’s lips, and though Hux was stroking the back of his neck Kylo’s arms remained stiffly at his side. Perhaps Kylo had realised he’d made a mistake after all. 

Hux pulled back, his mouth opening to ask when he was cut off by both of Kylo’s hands lifting at once to cradle his jaw and drag him back into the kiss. 

Where there had been hesitancy before there came a messy sort of desperation, as if Kylo had never… ah. He’d barely made the realisation when one of Kylo’s hands dropped to the small of his back. The aim was probably to close the distance between them, but in practice all Kylo managed to do was trap Hux’ injured arm between their chests. 

Pain flared brighter than the pleasure. 

Hating himself a little for it, Hux tightened his fingers in Kylo’s hair and tugged to separate them. 

Kylo stared at him, face flushed and eyes glittering with enough moisture to be mistaken for unshed tears. Well, Hux hoped he was mistaken in that assessment. Was the man always this dramatic?

“I thought you wanted…”

“My arm, Supreme Leader, remember?” Hux said, trying to keep his tone light enough not to scare him off. 

Kylo stepped back as if Hux had burnt him.

“I think this is one situation where perhaps we should take things slowly? For the sake of my health, you understand,” Hux continued, manfully resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh in frustration. “As much as I would very much like the spend the rest of the alpha shift in your lap I think we should restrain ourselves, at least until the evacuation is complete.”

They stared at each other- Hux holding his breath and Kylo’s brows drawn together in uncertainty- as the seconds ticking away in silence until Hux accidentally broke the tension with a yawn he barely managed to stifle.

Kylo laughed, a nervy and uncertain thing that Hux would do anything to hear again.

Smiling slightly Hux made a decision and held out his hand. “I don’t know about you, Supreme Leader… I mean Kylo, but I’m exhausted. Come to bed with me?”

The look of scandalised shock on Ren’s face was quite ruined by the speed with which he accepted that outstretched hand. “You and I have very different ideas of self restraint, Grand Marshal.”

Hux laughed as he led Kylo through his quarters. “We really don’t, but you did nominate yourself as my carer- so you must stay here, and I just don’t want you drooling on my couch…” 

He let the change in title go unacknowledged for now. Of course he _ did  _ deserve the promotion, but they could talk about it more in the morning. 


End file.
